


One Second of Eternity

by doctormissy



Series: What if...? [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Gallifrey, Gallifrey Falls No More, Sex in a TARDIS, Sexual Content, Some Plot, Unplanned Pregnancy, and they have children, the master is the doctor's original wife, who aren't dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 05:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12291900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy
Summary: ‘So tell me, Doctor, have you ever found Gallifrey?’‘I did,’ he whispered. It was another in the line of confessions he had to make to do so. ‘But sometimes I wonder if the universe wouldn’t be better if I had never walked those fields again. If I had never known.’‘Known what, Doctor?’He did not just find Gallifrey. He found out that his children,theirchildren, are still alive. They go home together, but things turn out completely differently than anticipated.





	One Second of Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in August, phew. Why? Oh, because I fucking love the theory that they were married and have children. I know canon, but I love this more, okay. I'm already working on the next chapter, and I dare say there will be only three, but who knows. 
> 
> It's a part of the _What If...?_ series, the promised sequel/prequel/something in between to _Random Encounters_ , a crossover between DW and James Bond. You _don't_ have to read it. That fic contains major spoilers for this fic, so if you'll choose to read it, maybe read only 5 parts (out of 6)??? Though, the ending of this will be funnier if you read all of it, so I guess I'll leave the choice to you.

**THEN**

Falling asleep was hard. His prison made sure of it. Time Lords need not sleep often, but he was locked in there for thousands of years, millions, if it was one day over and over again, so there were times when he fell on the bed in his automated room and closed his eyes.

At those times, he had dreams. Those dreams were mostly memories forgotten, because what are dreams and stories but memories one forgets ever making? They were nightmares, sometimes, about burning worlds he could not save or worlds he had saved but his head twisted the stories into something horrible. Other times, the dreams were pleasant and helped him forget about his prison and door number 12 and the wall. And sometimes, very rarely, he also had dreams of what-ifs and possible futures.

The light was dim and his feet hurt. His arms and back, too, from hours of digging the grave. He was sure he has seen the writing for the first time in his life, but his body told him otherwise. It didn’t take long to doze off and say hello to an old friend Morpheus (the god; he would rather forget about the sleep capsules).

 

_He stared into the eyes of Captain Jack and Martha Jones. It was the night they were hiding in an abandoned warehouse and eating chips, the night the Master became Prime Minister and brought the Toclafane to Earth. They were hiding from him._

_‘So, Doctor, tell us. Who is he? How come the ancient race of Time Lords created a psychopath?’ Jack asked, and Martha added, ‘Yeah, and what is he to you? Like a colleague, or...?’_

_He didn’t want to tell them—but did he really have a choice? His companions deserved to know. It’s not like he would tell them everything, anyway. They would be terrified, no matter what they thought they could handle._

_‘He was a friend, at first,’ he began._

_‘I thought you were going to say he was your secret brother or something,’ said Martha and laughed._

_‘You’ve been watching too much TV,’ the Doctor replied with a frown and ate a chip. But instead of breaking the story, he continued. ‘He’s been my best friend since the first day at the Academy. We did everything together. We could run across the fields under Mount Perdition for days.’ He looked at the sky and the stars. ‘We loved each other like no one else ever did. We got married later. He was my husband, and wife later. She was a woman twice, in her second and third body. We had children, two sons and a daughter. They are all dead now…’_

_He was sad. He did not like talking about that part of his life. It hurt too much to be commemorated. He ran his hands across his face and wiped the forming tears out of his eyes. That was what made him stop telling the story._

_‘I’m sorry,’ Martha said, but the Doctor knew there was nothing honest about the tone of her voice. Nothing could make her hate the Master less, ever. He hurt her family. Held them hostage._

_Jack thought about different things. Naturally. He was Jack. ‘So Time Lords can change genders too, not just bodies?’_

_‘Yeah. We were the oldest and most civilised… civilisation in the entire universe; we are far beyond the concept of binary gender, Jack.’_

_He could tell what was on the Captain’s mind. He would tell him something, but there was no energy inside him left to do it. He really didn’t like remembering._

_‘You still love him, don’t you?’ a question surprised him. It was Martha who asked. He was too afraid to answer that—but of course he did. No matter how bad it got, how wrong it felt, he could never stop loving him. It was in his base code._

 

The Doctor woke up before he could say anything more. He sat up on his bed and breathed, in and out, in and out. His eyes tried to find a clutch he could hold on to. That was not what had happened that night.

Would it make a difference if he ever got to finish the story? Could it?

What was the point in it anyway? He was trying to tell himself something, but this daft old brain was sometimes painfully slow. What was he trying to tell himself? Why this moment of everything he has seen in his long life?

It might be something about Missy. The last time he saw her, she had put Clara inside a Dalek armour and attempted to make him kill her. _The friend inside the enemy, the enemy inside the friend._ He had told her to run. Knowing Missy, she had survived, but gods knew where she had ended up.

No, Missy was in the past. Jack, Martha, and this late-night conversation were in the past. Gallifrey and their children were in the past—

Their children.

Gallifrey Falls No More.

There was a chance they might still be alive. It was a small chance, because too many Gallifreyans fell victim to the war, but that one spark of hope was all he needed. He had figured out that behind the six feet of azbantium was his planet. So maybe, if he were very lucky, he would see them again. Kaston, Regald, Equinaran. She was still in the Academy when he and Regald’s daughter, Arkytior, stole an old TARDIS and ran away.

The Doctor threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He slipped into his shoes and laced them hastily, then he took his coat from the stand at the fireplace. A wholly new wave of zeal and determination boosted him up. He wasn’t just fighting for Clara. He was fighting for his family.

It could take two billion years more, and yet he would keep going, he was sure of that. He had three reasons more as to why keep the secret of the Hybrid to himself.

 

**NOW**

‘So tell me, Doctor, have you ever found Gallifrey?’

Missy slowly turned her head on the pillow. Hair fell over her face, but her hands were too occupied smoothing the creases on the duvet underneath her. She ignored it. The Doctor mimicked the movement. He could feel her breath on his cheek and hear her eyelashes flutter.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked as though he did not know. His hands were folded on his belly. His unbuttoned jacket lay loosely on the duvet.

‘I know you hopped inside your TARDIS and flew to the coordinates I gave you on the graveyard as soon as you got rid of your... pet.’ She knew there were no traces of the impossible girl left in his mind. ‘But did you really find it?’

The Doctor frowned. ‘They were the wrong coordinates. You lied to me.’

‘Of course I did, darling. Nonetheless, did you ever get there again? Home?’

Missy suddenly found herself averting her gaze from him. The crimson canopy laced with golden and silver stars was much more interesting. She was scared of the answer.

He remembered. Memories he shouldn’t have, memories of that endless living dungeon and sea of millions of skulls, of the infinite pain as he dug through the azbantium wall foot by foot, of the storm of feelings that raged in his hearts when he held his prison in his hand and walked the ground of his planet crossed his mind at high speed. He was too afraid to close his eyes just for a second, so he concentrated on her neckline and dark hair covering the pillow in waves.

‘I did,’ he whispered. It was another in the line of confessions he had to make to do so. ‘But sometimes I wonder if the universe wouldn’t be better if I had never walked those fields again. If I had never known.’

‘Known what, Doctor?’ Something made her face him again. She could read his thoughts if she wanted to (if he let her), but running and saving worlds was too exhausting. Difficult. She just enjoyed watching him inhale and exhale.

‘There was a prophecy, a question, and an answer. The Time Lords thought I knew the answer. They were willing to do anything to get it, and I was willing to do anything to stop them from getting it, which eventually resulted in me finding out that I… became the answer.’

The Doctor was sad, she could tell. It was his eyes. They leaked the layers of sorrow he’s been burying deep down in his hearts since forever. She could tell, because she’s been doing the same, and now it all began to resurface. It hurt.

‘And then I lost someone very special to me, and I don’t even remember her face.’

Clara. _Clara, Clara, Clara._ Something happened to her on Gallifrey. Was that what this was about? No; there was more. The Doctor mentioned a prophecy. The Hybrid, who else. But that wasn’t a reason to be sad.

Did he know who the Castellan was? Who was the bespectacled human he took on a trip every Saturday? Who was the man he was crazy in love with, which she pretended not to show a particular interest in as due but actually did because no, Doctor, not all humans are just vermin in my eyes? He must have. That was what it was about.

He knew and didn’t tell her. She knew and didn’t tell him. That was their Paris.

She thought she would cry again. But she held it back, because she was curious how long he was going to continue playing the game, and the raw curiosity was stronger. She would just play along while editing the rules in her benefit. Get The Doctor To The Edge To Get What You Want. It went on for ages and never ended.

Missy thought it could end, but apparently, she was wrong.

‘Well, she _was_ pretty, I can tell you that,’ she said. ‘Considering she was human. I’m obviously prettier.’ She ran a hand through her hair.

The Doctor cracked a sad half-smile—like he was trying to pull the memory of her big eyes and brown hair out of the pit riding a song-fuelled rocket (yes, they watched Disney films sometimes, when the nights were too long and too lonely). ‘Probably. I don’t know.’

‘Now that wasn’t nice.’ She jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow and earned an accusing look for it. The look he got in return was dark and piercing. It would make one shiver. Not him.

‘Sorry.’ The Doctor rubbed his eyes with his hands slowly and kept them closed when he removed the hands and flung them next to him unceremoniously. His left arm touched Missy’s. ‘You are very… symmetrical and pleasing to the sight.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied sharply and turned to face the canopy once again. She crossed her feet. Their hands didn’t break contact.  

The Doctor yawned. It has been a long day—one day was 88 hours long on the planet they had visited, so the claim couldn’t be truer—and lying in bed with his eyes closed wasn’t really helpful. He needed his weekly forty winks.

The continuous stream of thoughts and psychic waves gradually abated and lulled her to sleep—but there still was one thing that kept bothering him. Not even a Time Lord can stop thinking and transmitting completely. ‘Why did you ask about Gallifrey?’

He opened his eyes. Missy regained consciousness with a jolt. Softly, she answered, ‘I thought we could—nothing, it was a silly idea. Just forget about it, dear.’

‘Tell me.’ He knew what she was about to say already. Of course. He carefully squeezed her hand.

‘I thought we could go back home. Together.’ She whispered the word as though it was sacred. It was in a way, for her and her Theta. It was lost for so long. ‘Bring it back,’ she added after a pause.

‘I thought you hated Gallifrey,’ the Doctor noted. What he meant was _Are you sure?_

‘Didn’t you hate it?’ she replied. What she meant was _Would you go back?_

There was more each of them had on mind but daren’t say aloud. The Doctor because it would hurt too much; Missy because she needed to know how far his trust went. It was a test, and he was failing it spectacularly. A hundred years of silence, and each minute was only making it hurt more.

‘I have never hated anything. I just didn’t like the preposterous rules everybody had to follow,’ he confessed. It sounded the same as “I’m going to get a cup of tea” or “It’s going to rain”. Easy.

‘What has changed?’ Missy was honestly curious about what he’ll say. There were two possible truths. Let’s see which he’ll opt for.

‘I’m Lord President now. I make the rules.’

Protection.

(There was another memory he would rather not have: Time Lord Victorious.)

‘Doctor, you can’t just rule two planets without sharing with me. We’re best mates now; give me one!’

Defence.

She rolled on her side and pressed her body closer to his. He couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or very serious. That was the purpose of building protective walls round her; never let your enemy know your feelings. Enemy or friend or lover, it doesn’t matter. She lived inside a castle.

He looked deep into her blue eyes. They were darker in the dim light of the TARDIS. ‘No, Missy. But I can still take you to Gallifrey.’

‘Well, I suppose that must suffice.’ She kissed his cheek and smiled lightly. She was never one for displays of affection, but she was too tired to think about it. She was too tired to consider what she was doing when she put one hand on his chest and nuzzled her head against the crook of his neck. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’

She has won the game already, anyway.

He put an arm around her and stroked her hair gently until he actually fell asleep. When you are over 2,000 years old, you don’t care about pyjamas, really.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The Doctor pulled the dematerialisation lever. The rotors were turning and the TARDIS humming. He knew where they had hidden Gallifrey; he could go there anytime he wished if his old ship listened to him for once. Though, she only seemed to prosper ever since they fixed the spatial regulator.

He rested his hands against the cold console. His face was solemn. There was something that needed to be said before they go outside and walk the streets of Arcadia. One simple thing he was keeping secret for so long until it soaked with guilt and regret.

Missy stood on the other side of the hexagon. She twisted two buttons, pulled the helmic regulator, and turned the handbrake off. She was like River in that matter; always flying it wrong. No wheezing. The Doctor gazed at her, trying to put the words in the correct order.

‘Missy,’ he began. She looked up. ‘There is one more thing I must tell you.’

‘Are you going to give me a speech? Because you look like you’re going to give me a speech.’ She waved a hand vaguely in his direction. ‘Just go on with it, Doctor.’

(Defence.) (She knew what this was about.)

‘Missy, I have extracted Gallifrey from its timeline on the last day of the War and moved it to the end of time and universe itself. Ever since, the time lock has been removed as well, and life has been going on normally, second by second, disgusting soup by disgusting soup…’

‘Does this have a point? Because I know all that,’ Missy interrupted him. Her attitude was somewhere between boredom and irritation, yet there was something vicious behind it.

‘Yes, to the point. My children—our children fought and died in the war when I destroyed Gallifrey and every single Dalek in its proximity together. Right? But I didn’t destroy Gallifrey, now did I?’ The solemn face was now smiling. ‘Which means they are still there, Missy. I didn’t find only Gallifrey. I found our children.’

Missy was perplexed. Her hands froze in motion for the dramatic effect. The Doctor trod to her quickly. He took her face in his hands and pressed an excited kiss on her lips like he did it when he was younger. ‘Our children are alive.’

Missy took his hands in hers and placed them on her chest. There we go. ‘Doctor,’ she said firmly. This was going to hurt. ‘I know they are.’

The Doctor pulled away from her. Emotions stormed through his mind and face. Mostly surprise and disbelief and happiness, but there was more. Blame. ‘For how long?’

Long stare, deep breath.

‘I’m sorry, Doctor, I—I was there when you stole the Moment and then saved the stupid planet. The old me, Harold Saxon. You banished me to Gallifrey, in case you forgot!’ She was raising her voice, but she sobbed. The top layer of her walls was collapsing. ‘So of course I found out! Equinaran was the Castellan. She gave me my old TARDIS back and helped me escape.’

For that long.

‘Why didn’t you tell me, Missy?’ he asked, still a little shocked. He wasn’t angry with her. The anger would come later, once it would dawn on him fully. ‘Didn’t you think I deserve to know?’

There had to be an explanation. He didn’t tell Missy because he was protecting her, and Gallifrey. He knew that once she’d find out, she would break out of the Vault and try to find their children herself, only she would leave a path of destruction in her trail if that were what it would take.

He was mistaken. He was so wrong, but it was too late now. He couldn’t always unmake what he’d done. That was on him. But what was Missy’s reason as to keep the knowledge to herself? The Master he knew never did anything if they didn’t think there was something in it for them, something they could exploit. Now, the Doctor wasn’t so sure.

That was worse.

‘Well, you could have figured it out yourself…’ Missy said. She was trying to lighten the situation and divert his thoughts. Unsuccessfully.

‘I did, eventually, but you,’ it was difficult to find words, ‘you knew the whole time and didn’t bother to tell me that my own children whom I considered dead for centuries _aren’t actually dead_! Why, Missy? Was it some sort of revenge? Did you want to hurt me? Because if you did, then you succeeded. Well done.’

‘Now, now, Doctor, you seem to forget _one_ thing. You think the whole universe revolves around you, that you are the God and the martyr, that you can decide what’s good and what’s bad. You ask for my help when things go tits up because you can’t handle it, but when I make one move that doesn’t fit your moral principles, you make _me_ the bad one immediately even though _you_ can do the same thing and suddenly it’s okay. Do you ever stop and consider that I am not the villain here? Do you ever consider that you hurt me too? Because, ding-ding, you had a _century_ to tell me. You are no better than me, Doctor. You can never trust me completely, and you think that if you did, it would be the end of you. But guess what, it will be the exact opposite that will bring you to your grave. I was just trying to make you see what that feels like.’

Missy was shouting. The tension was rising high, and it was getting hot in there. The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but he has run out of words. He looked Missy in the eye and gaped like a fish on the dry.

He was shouting too. ‘There is one thing _you_ can’t see, Missy. I was protecting you! Because I care!’

‘You were protecting mostly yourself,’ Missy said matter-of-factly. That was all she could be now. Straightforward, honest, beyond resentment or anger or victory. ‘Because you were afraid of what I’d do if I knew. I know you better than you know yourself, which isn’t something you could say, apparently.’ She used his name. His real name. ‘I wouldn’t do anything, and I didn’t. But look at you, defying the whole universe to see your Clara once more, dying over and over again for your children, telling Rassilon the Resurrected to fuck off and sitting in his place. The whole time, I was protecting you too, you silly idiot.’

She put her hand on the Doctor’s. He flinched. ‘That isn’t how it works.’

‘Yes, it is. I knew you would rip the universe apart; the only thing I didn’t know was that you already did, not until I asked.’

There had been no one to stop him then, and that was the problem. There was no one now.

The frown did not back away, but the indignation did. He walked across the room with his hands on his face. He was thinking. His legs led him to the door, but he didn’t open them and proceeded to the gallery. Halfway up the stairs, he stopped and looked at the Time Lady, who was leaning against the console. ‘How do you even know all that?’

He hadn’t told her as much. He hadn’t told that to Clara.

Missy didn’t look in his direction. ‘If you won’t blow up like a volcano again,’ she said to the aubergine nails on her hands. Sotto voce, she added, ‘It’s kind of hot, but right now, well…’

‘I can’t promise you that.’ He walked the rest of the way up.

‘I asked the Castellan, and she told me the whole story. It was quite hilarious, honest!’ She even chuckled. ‘Seriously, Doctor, “BIRD”?’

The Doctor’s mind was otherwise occupied. The returning frown was audible. ‘You spoke to our daughter? When?’

‘I sneaked to your workshop in the morning and took an old communication device. The President’s office still hasn’t changed the code,’ answered Missy nonchalantly as though reaching the end of time and the other end of cosmos wasn’t impossible. The Doctor had tried that and failed. Multiple times.

‘It’s funny that the position of Lord President usually goes to the Castellan or the President’s next of kin, and the Castellan is now your daughter... The election won’t be exactly fair, now will it? Really funny. Ha ha ha,’ she teased.

‘Shut up,’ the Doctor said authoritatively. It was hard to find a coherent thought when she was just talking and talking and talking. ‘Shut up. Get out.’ He pointed at the door.

Missy made an offended grimace. She dug her index finger into the fabric of her black designer dress and pretended not to understand. ‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. Just go, Mistress.’

He was hurt and tired and sick of her face. He needed some time alone, time to think, time to process everything she had said and calm down before he could talk to her again. At the moment, he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to forgive her. It certainly wouldn’t be now.

She walked to the door, gaze locked with his. Her eyes were threatening. ‘Not that I’d mind being cast _out_ of the TARDIS for once, but know this, Doctor: you will be back, crawling and begging, once you realise you have nothing left but the truth you are too afraid to see.’ She unlocked the door with a click. She made a theatrical curtsy and said drily, ‘You know where to find me. I’ll be waiting.’

The Doctor let out a very long sigh. That went excellently. He leant on the railing and buried his head in his folded arms. He really wanted to kick something, so he did, but it only hurt more. After a minute or so, he went to the console and turned on the scanner. He didn’t see Missy anywhere. There were too many Gallifreyans walking about. Good.

He turned it off again and pulled the handbrake. His head decided to shake in disbelieve without him. Missy reminded him of River so much sometimes. That was what ached most of all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They knew of his arrival. Nothing can escape the Council’s heedful eye. Not a street rat, not a blue police box parked beneath the celestial globe of the Citadel. Six people stood up when he entered the room.

The woman on the right side of the presidential chair greeted him with a nod. Rich, wavy umber hair fell on her chest and shoulders. She was tall, and the ridiculous collar made her even taller.

‘Sir,’ she said.

‘How many times have I told you not to call me sir, Equinaran?’

A smile and a frown simultaneously coloured his face. He hasn’t seen his only daughter since he ran off into the Arcades; the number of years was nearing a century. However, the Castellan’s robe covering her form displeased him. He has never wanted her to become that. Drunk with power.

(He hated to have become that himself.)

‘Four times—if I recall it correctly, Doctor,’ she replied with a smile. The Doctor crossed the room. All eyes were on him. He clutched the backrest of his chair and didn’t sit down.

‘I need a word with Lady Equinaranmaraa,’ he said and glanced at everyone, ‘in private.’

The other Time Lords obediently left the room, one by one, until it was just Lord President and the Castellan. At the very moment the door closed behind the Chancellor, Equinaran’s smile faded, and posture dropped as well as her temper.

‘Hello, Father. You decided to show up at last,’ she said. Her eyes were full of reproach. They were stripping him of all secrets like deep blue mind probes.

‘Gallifrey doesn’t need me,’ he noted. He came there for one reason only, anyway. One reason in a wrapping of another that was actually just an excuse. ‘I came to see you.’

‘That’s a lie,’ she pointed out.

‘I came here because your mother and I thought that we could start again, but in the end, she just betrayed me like she always does.’ Equinaran knew well what kind of person Missy was. Equinaran was also the one who had brought the Master back to life during the Time War and given him a new set of regenerations. ‘And since I was on my way here, I thought I could see you.’

‘You are a fly tangling in a web of lies, Father. Take a breath before you choke. Free yourself.’

Mind probes. She was so smart. 726 years old with a face not a day older than 35, if he remembered correctly. Gallifrey was in good hands.

He took a deep breath. He faced the engravings on the table and read them for a thousandth time. ‘We really tried to start again, Naran. We did. But betrayal is all we are now. All we will ever know. We cannot live without hurting one another at some point.’

‘Betrayal is just a state of mind. Betrayal a feeling akin to falling in love,’ Equinaran said, and it was as if he were a child talking to a professor. She reached for his hand. ‘Love is a complicated emotion. It’s confusing and makes you do all sorts of things. Think about that the next time you talk to her. Think how she must feel. I don’t know what she said to you, but nothing can be as bad.’ She smiled again. It was a tired smile. ‘But you hardly came here to seek love advice from your unmarried daughter. Tell me why you are really here. Tear the web apart, Lord President.’

‘That is not who I am,’ he confessed. A heavy burden dropped from his shoulders. ‘I can’t be Lord President. I have never asked for it. It’s just a stupid title that I don’t deserve.’

‘Thank you—but you are wrong. If anyone deserves it, it is you and no one else.’

‘No, you are wrong, Equinaran. What can I promise to the people of Gallifrey? I am a tired, old man. There are destruction and misery everywhere I walk. I may have saved worlds and prevented massacres, but people have fought and died in my name. They believed in me and my power to protect them from monsters, and look what they’ve got. They’re dead. I may have had a crazy plan to save this planet, which might not even work, but men and women and children fell. I am not their saviour, or their leader. I never was. I never was President. But you,’ he took the hand that was holding his and stared into her eyes, ‘are, Equinaran. That is why I’m here.’

It was the absolute truth.

Her face was made of stone. Stern and enigmatic. ‘No, Doctor. Some might perhaps disagree, but we have never had a better leader in times of crisis. You made us realise what we’ve become and what horrors we’ve perpetrated. There is a reason why you had chosen your name. Be a doctor.’

‘The _universe_ needs me, not Gallifrey, not you, and definitely not Regald. I can’t be stuck here. I would run at the first opportunity I’d get, and you know that. I, at this moment, outrank you, and I’m sorry if giving orders is what it must take, but you will replace me in the function. Effective immediately, Madam President.’

He couldn’t change. Missy couldn’t either. Gallifrey was a place to be run away from. Staying there wouldn’t be a life fit for them, let alone ruling the planet. He has had years to consider that.

Equinaran freed her hand from his hold. She leant forward and folded her arms in her lap. ‘No. That chair comes with too much responsibility; believe me, I know. I am not strong enough to carry the sky on my shoulders. I am not you.’

Who was lying now?

‘You are better than me, Equinaran. Gallifrey would burn if I stayed. I am putting it into good hands.’

(Just trust me. I know it’s hard, but trust me. Don’t repeat my mistakes.)

‘It will burn if you don’t!’ She stood up. Her chair nearly toppled. With two quick steps, she walked to the middle of the table. The holographic projector came to life with a tap of her finger. A few more taps and a swish, and they were looking at the entire universe.

Except… entirety wasn’t a word one would use to describe it.

There was Gallifrey. Its suns. A couple of lonely asteroids and dwarfs floating in dark matter. Void has consumed everything else.

‘We were hoping you would come, Doctor. Time is ending, and what is left of the universe is collapsing. We are isolated, but the desolation will soon reach us as well. I tried locking Gallifrey in a time lock, but that only postponed the inevitable.’ She displayed the accelerated progress of time and its impact on Gallifrey on the projector. The blue made it look somewhat less sinister. ‘We have to get the planet back where it belongs, and we need you and every Time Lord who is out there.’

He has come later than he thought.

‘Kaston.’ He didn’t want to bring his youngest son into this too. He had a life on Earth, away from everything, a life that was dangerous enough as it is. He watched over him.

‘Yes,’ Equinaran said decisively.

‘And Missy.’ She nodded. Of course. She had a TARDIS on Earth. The Doctor has got in, thus he could fly away again. They needed someone who could get to that specific time or was already there.

She was going to repeat Rassilon’s trick with drums and the White-Pointed Star.

‘You can’t do that,’ the Doctor objected. He has seen it before. It has gone terribly wrong.

‘I can, Father, because there are two more things I am not.’ She leant on the table’s edge, looking as though she wanted to blow it up with her touch. ‘I am not Rassilon, and I am not alone.’ She turned her head to him. The wild hair flew all around her. ‘Furthermore, I have an entirely different plan.’

The Doctor was silent awhile. He was considering every option he had at that moment. Finding out more seemed to be the best of them. ‘Alright. Tell me your plan.’

‘Right.’ She stood straight again. Sat down on the nearest chair. ‘As you know, Rassilon used the drums in the Master’s head multiplied by six billion humans and a Vinvocci ambulance to break through the time lock and shift Gallifrey across the universe. Such drastic measures aren’t necessary in our case. We need a signal a TARDIS could pick up and amplify, broadcast across time and space.’

 _I hate what Rassilon did._ The hidden truth behind her unbiased words came out crystal clear.

‘You would need ten TARDISes at least to do that,’ he observed. 13, to be precise. He had done the calculations once upon a time. ‘And a very strong anchor.’

‘Exactly.’ Equinaran dismissed the pathetic image of the universe and showed the re-enacted footage of 13 police boxes circling the planet and pushing it beyond borders of the known universe. ‘We are sealed in a painting, and now we must break the glass, but it’s impossible to do that without a sledgehammer.’

‘Those TARDISes can create cracks in the fabric of space-time continuum, which will Gallifrey be able to pull through if it follows the signal.’ The Doctor mimicked a planet penetrating a web of cracks with his fingers.

‘Breaking fissured glass is easy,’ his daughter nodded. ‘And if you have 13 different sources of the signal equally deployed in proximity of Gallifrey’s original coordinates, there is a big chance it won’t shatter.’

‘Rassilon’s mistake was latching onto one source. It brought Gallifrey to Earth—but when you scatter the signal across the galaxy, it will create a perfect equilibrium! Oh, that’s brilliant!’ He got up impulsively. His arms flew into the air. He cocked his eyebrows and grinned. ‘That’s absolutely brilliant! Naran, you’re a genius.’

‘I’m merely reverse-engineering what you had done,’ she said sheepishly and smiled in the same manner. All the same, not even he figured out how to undo what he and his past selves have done. That bespoke extraordinary intellectual abilities.

‘Shut up. You are a genius.’ He put a hand on her shoulder. His eyes were warm. She placed her hand on his and caressed it before she let go again.

‘Either way, this is the theoretical part. We still must find a way of contacting the target planets.’ It sounded like a sigh.

The Doctor paced round the room, thinking. He rubbed his chin between a thumb and a forefinger. ‘I could send a message from my TARDIS,’ he suggested, ‘on a subspace channel. Contact the capital cities directly and tell them to reverse it and broadcast a different message to the other TARDISes.’

‘Yes, that’s a splendid idea.’ She paused, and the Doctor sensed something ominous would follow. He had a hunch. ‘Doctor, we need her.’

Meaning: we need you to take her to Earth, where she had parked her TARDIS. The Mistress.

‘I know, and I wish you didn’t.’ Talking to her at some point was unavoidable. But. Not as yet. Equinaran frowned. _She is my mother and your wife. You are bound to fix things. I highly doubt you care so little betrayal would make a difference._ ‘I will try and talk to her.’

‘Words of a wise man.’ Another minute smile lightened her serious face for a nanosecond. ‘Now, let’s move to the council chamber. A crucial meeting is on the programme.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

He knocked on the door. Four times. Why? He didn’t have a clue. It was always the rhythm of four with him and the Master. There was no response, so he repeated the dull melody, and when silence persisted, he let himself in.

‘Missy?’ he called. She was in the room. The brain waves were distinctive.

(Of course he knew where to find her. What other place than the basement of their old house? Her workshop, the stash of old and dusty secrets layered with books and apparatuses and sentimentality she hated to put on display in front of any other living being? She could hide down there for whole days when they had had rough moments, and never let him in. She had never let anyone in.)

His gaze fell on the chairs and the little table in front of them. An empty bowl and a spoon stood on it. The floor was swiped, books reorganised. Still no sight of the Time Lady. She must have been in the back room. ‘Missy!’

‘The time has come when the Doctor seeks repentance for the sins and mistakes he has made in the name of selfishness misinterpreted as goodwill and humbly comes to an enemy’s doorstep with apologies on the mind,’ she recited from behind the curtain made of orange beads. He came to a halt.

‘I’m not here to apologise,’ he replied. He clenched his fists instinctively.

‘No, you are here to ask for my help, but I think we both know I’m not just going to throw my arms round your neck and deliver the goods. Not this time. So I need you to answer me this: do you still have anything left to lose?’

His feet carried him forward and behind the veil of beads. She was sitting on the bed, back to the wall, with a book of poetry in her hands. Her eyes were eager for an answer. There was something hostile in the anticipation.

Maybe she _was_ right. He was too afraid to see the unabbreviated truth: that they were ultimate, unconditional, selfsame past the lines of good or bad. They have lost everything, but they would always have one another. They were constant, and their constant were betrayal, fighting, denial, remedy, repeat for a reason as old as time itself. He didn’t want to see it.

Maybe his words had been too harsh and she hadn’t deserved them. He thought about Equinaran’s words and hated to know exactly how Missy must have felt. He kept secrets from her too. The very same secret.

The very same problems had been the ground for estrangement and mistrust in the past.

‘She was right,’ he said. Not “you were right”. ‘About everything. I could never care so little that betrayal would make a difference. I’m not going to beg for your forgiveness because right now, I can’t say anything to lessen the gravity of what we’ve both done or said, and neither can I promise you that we will be able to fix this, but I can give you a choice. We can try again, starting by helping our daughter to save this planet, or we can keep fighting until there is not a speck of dust left in the universe, which will be rather soon.’

He was giving himself the choice, too. Although, he knew what he would choose any time.

(Any time other than earlier today.)

(“Stand with me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”)

‘I… really want to try, Doctor. But at this point, I’m not sure if we’re capable of coexistence without finding a way of hurting each other in the end.’ She snapped the book shut and laid it aside. Her eyes sneaked away from him.

The Doctor stepped closer. ‘I’m not sure either,’ he admitted. It made her look up despite herself. ‘But the universe is vast; what is ever sure but stars and planets and wonderful civilisations? We can still see them together. Give… give it another chance.’

‘And how many chances can you waste until you realise there is no point in them besides giving up, dear?’ Her voice was pitched low. Louder. Reconciled with their forever.

‘I could never give up on you,’ he said quietly. It was the truth. The truth was overwhelming.

‘If that’s true, then think about what you’re doing,’ she snapped. She leant forward and put her hands on her bent knees. ‘I could confess to my sins, but can you, Mr Righteous?’

For a while, he just stared into her eyes and became lost in the abyss. He answered with words he had said before but never in front of her. ‘That would take too long.’

She assumed her original position. Calmly, she asked, ‘Does it feel better?’

‘Does what feel better?’ Bemusement furrowed his brow in spite of the knot in his stomach that suspected what she meant. It was an old habit.

‘Saying it.’ Of course.

He gave the air a short smile. ‘Come on,’ he said, waving a hand in the air. Backwards, he walked through the curtain, which enclosed him like snakes on a Gorgon’s head.

He still ignored the question.

‘You are so sure I will.’ Nevertheless, she got up from the bed and walked through the snakes too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The Inner Council have gathered in the President’s office. The Time Lords had decided their fate whilst the Doctor went on his trip to the other side of Arcadia: three nays versus hundreds of ayes.

Not a single person had dared to oppose his decision to name Equinaranmaraa Lady President, so she had been left with no other choice but to accept it. He had told her that she would make it, survive it, and be a good President who could lead Gallifrey to the new golden age—and she was starting to believe he might not be completely out of his mind for saying such things.

She was sitting at the front of the florid table, surrounded by the rest of the most powerful heads on Gallifrey. Nothing new. Someone had to be in charge when the Doctor was gone. The only novelty and her only fear was the official appointment. In the midst of the table, an image of the universe as it looked in the Doctor’s time was rotating. The thirteen chosen planets were shining in red light instead of the customary blue. No Gallifrey.

The Doctor was in his TARDIS. They could see and hear him on a holographic screen above their heads. It was like on the last day of the war; only a different face was staring at them. Or not staring. He was currently fiddling with the controls and paid the Council no attention.

History was repeating itself in a mocking spectacle.

Equinaran’s gaze was fixed on the screen. ‘Are we ready to commence the plan, Doctor?’

His wild hair and large eyebrows peeped at her. ‘Give us a second. I still have to establish a link with Arcturia and Myndrova.’

‘Actually, consider it done,’ Missy stepped in and pushed the Doctor away from the screen. She winked at her daughter and added a smirk before she disappeared again. Whatever he had said to her, it must have been strong words. They both pretended everything was normal.

As normal as things can get between them.

The Doctor reclaimed his place before the camera. His focus was on Missy. This face certainly frowned very often. ‘How did you do it so quickly?’

‘Scandalously,’ she said off-screen. The smugness in her voice was reaching high levels.

He turned to the Council. One train of thought overwrote another. ‘We are ready to transmit. Three, two, one…’ They could hear the click of a press of a key. Equinaran stood up. ‘Gallifrey stands.’

It was ironical that he said those words this time. He against whom their author fought so fiercely some time ago.

They repeated the chant. Expectation filled everyone’s eyes like something was bound to happen right at the moment, like the subspace wave should change something in the very fabric of time and they should feel it. It didn’t. Time continued to pass normally, seconds ticked away, and the silence in the room was becoming unnerving.

Until a certain Time Lady finally broke it. ‘Christ, you’re like human babies. Calm down. This will take a while.’ There were two staring faces now. One of them rolled her eyes.

The notion brought the Time Lords back to life, and they started talking loudly, continuing their arguments where they had left off. Equinaran could breathe. She failed to notice she had stopped.

‘Mother, you’re spoiling the precious moment,’ she said with a tiny smile. The opportunity of seeing her and the Doctor together in one TARDIS while they refrained from the usual attempts to kill each other was a good reason to smile.

‘It needed to be spoiled, my dear,’ she remarked. Her blue eyes found Equinaran’s. She wanted to add something to that, but something distracted her. She disappeared out of sight. Soberly, she said, ‘Look, Doctor, they are responding. We’ve got the Pope of Rondas and Arcturian council online.’

The Doctor moved to the other side of the console. Equinaran would swear he was pulling levers he wasn’t supposed to pull while checking for the source of the signal.

‘Yes, and now Unnunnu!’ He spoke with pure excitement. Did he doubt their plan’s efficiency? ‘It worked! It actually worked!’ He rushed back in front of the camera. ‘Equinaran, get ready. It’s going to get bumpy in a while.’

‘They must reach other TARDISes first,’ she pointed out.

If that was the easy part, now came the tricky one.

‘Yes, and this is where you,’ he turned his head to the right, ‘come in. We’re flying to Earth.’

Missy dematerialised the TARDIS. The connection was intermittent during the flight through the Time Vortex, but it always restored in the end. Gallifreyan technology remained impeccable even at the end, like a sad absurdity.

In the meantime, two more ships joined the conference. ‘Hello, High Council of Gallifrey, this is the Captain. Do you read me?’ asked a young man with long black hair flying a Type 72 TARDIS. A familiar young woman stared at them for a moment with her wide brown eyes, and then she said, ‘This is Clara Oswald. We’re coming back to Gallifrey.’

‘I read you loud and clear,’ Equinaran replied to the Time Lord. Her mind was with Clara.

The woman caught the Doctor’s attention. He knew the name. A few clicks, and he could connect to her American diner. He thought he knew the face, too. ‘Clara Oswald?’ There was something sad about the fact he didn’t know why he was sad. ‘You’re Clara Oswald.’

‘Doctor.’ She was perplexed. Gallifrey ceased to exist for her. ‘Doctor, is that you? Do you—do you know who I am? Do you remember me?’

He lowered his gaze and voice. ‘I’m sorry, Clara, I… I know that I know who you are, but… no. I don’t remember you. I’m sorry.’

She forced a thin-lipped smile. ‘It’s alright, Doctor. I understand.’

‘Miss Clara, I know this must be hard for you, given the circumstances of your departure, but I need you to be strong and help Gallifrey. Can you do that?’ Equinaran pleaded. She tried to empathise with the woman.

‘Yes. Yes, of course, Madam President.’ She nodded. Her expression changed in a matter of seconds. She knew what she was going into: going to Gallifrey meant going back to London and the Raven. Her death. And yet she came. ‘We can do that.’

Lady Me showed up right next to her. Oh, that immortal Viking girl.

‘Splendid. But we still need more TARDISes. Doctor?’ She looked at the third circular screen.

‘We’ve got seven planets,’ he reported. It wouldn’t take too long to hook up all of the remaining planets. The calculations showed Gallifrey had two hours at most; it should be in its rightful place back then.

They all hoped.

 

As if on cue, another window popped up. An older console room with just too many purple decorations was in the background. One quick move, and the owner appeared too. ‘Long time no see, daughter.’

‘Indeed,’ she nodded. 

Clara threw a venomous look at the Time Lady. ‘Missy. What the hell are you doing here? And don’t tell me you’ve come to help Gallifrey.’

‘Actually, I have. Your little human brain is just too primitive to possibly understand my motives and intentions.’

‘Is Kaston coming too, Missy?’ asked Equinaran. She cut off the conversation purposefully.

Missy did not even have time to take a breath before the answer. A fifth window appeared on the right side of the table. Short blond hair, blue eyes just like Mother’s, a disarming smile—Equinaran would recognise her brother in any body, despite not having seen it yet.

‘Ah, there he is. I see you’ve regenerated again.’

‘It comes with the job,’ he replied simply. ‘Hello to you too, sis. I see you’re President now.’

‘I’ve heard you are quite something on Earth. Your reputation precedes you.’

‘Well—’

‘Hang on,’ Clara said and interrupted everyone’s thoughts, ‘Missy, you said “daughter”. The President of Gallifrey is your daughter. Both of you.’ She pierced the blond man with her eyes. Then she glanced at the Doctor. ‘The Doctor told me she was _his_ daughter. How?’

‘Do you really want to talk about _that_ now?’ Missy blinked threateningly a few times. Clara was silent and so was everyone else. Oddly enough. ‘Well, if you must know—it might be shocking—when Mummy and Daddy go to bed, they sometimes do other activities besides sleep, and sometimes said activities go too far and Daddy gets a boner—’

‘Stop right there, Missy,’ the Doctor said, pointing his fingers around. ‘Please, just stop.’

He wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable. Equinaran wanted to bury her face in her hands and let out the longest sigh ever seen. Clara was genuinely shocked. ‘Doctor, honestly, how could you ever forget to mention that she ( _that creature_ ) was your bloody _wife_?!’

He threw his hands in the air. ‘I can’t be sorry for something I don’t remember not doing!’

‘And I still _am_ his wife, thank you very much.’ She received an unimpressed glance from both women.

Somebody cleared their throat. They all looked in the direction. There were two more blue screens above their heads. On one was Valkyria, a middle-aged Time Lady who was watching the scene with amusement, and on the other was a younger version of the Doctor. He was wearing a beige coat with a stick of celery on the lapel and a frown not unlike the current one’s.

‘I get that all of you are me from the future and you,’ he looked at Missy, ‘are the Master. I must say, my future does look rather wild.’ Then he turned to Equinaran. ‘I picked up your subspace message, Madam President.’

Did he recognise his daughter in this body? She wasn’t certain.

‘Hello, vegetable boy.’ Missy waved at him flirtatiously. It has been a long time since any of them saw that version of the Doctor. He waved back awkwardly, unsure what to think of her.

‘No, only I am me,’ the current Doctor replied to his past self.

‘And me.’ There was another window. This Doctor was grinning.

Missy returned the grin with more seductiveness in her eyes. ‘Oh, I don’t know you yet. I see you have switched sides. I _love_ it.’ She mimicked a bite.

This Doctor was young and blonde again. She was a woman. And she winked at Missy. ‘I know.’

The youngest Doctor and Clara were more and more confused with every word. The two other Time Lords seemed to exchange private messages (or actually work on saving Gallifrey, who can tell), and Kaston sat on a chair with his arms folded on his chest, observing the comedy on his TARDIS’ screen. Typical of him.

‘Wait a minute—’ Clara began, but the Chancellor cut her off impatiently. ‘All due respect, miss, but we have work to do.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Equinaran leant on the table. ‘There will be time for meaningless conversations later. I believe you all came here because you wanted to save our planet. Doctor, are all planets online?’

Doctor number twelve looked down on his keyboard and typed. ‘No, only eleven of them.’

‘Myndrova and Thempus still haven’t connected,’ added number thirteen. ‘I’ve heard the latter was on the verge of a military conflict. I’m worried about their participation in the plan.’

‘That’s not good. That’s not good at all.’ The Castellan glanced at Equinaran. They had considered the possibility of mutually exclusive engagements, refusal, or utter indifference to the situation, but it had been very little. The threat had not seemed to be real. Except it was now.

‘I know. Somebody contact them,’ Lady President ordered. All three Doctors assumed the task. It was always like that with them. ‘What about Myndrova?’ she asked after a pause. She straightened her posture and walked round the table.

‘Myndrova has gone online just now,’ answered the Captain.

‘We should have enough TARDISes soon,’ Missy said. She was making all necessary settings on hers.

Not long after that, two more screens popped up. The faces were unfamiliar. On one was a woman with the wildest hair and the sliest smile, and in the other was an ordinarily looking, clean-shaved, dark-haired young man.

Equinaran perhaps did not know them, but they knew the Doctor.

‘Hello, sweetie. My, you’re so young!’ the woman said to the youngest version of him. ‘Greetings to the High Council of Gallifrey. My name is River Song.’

She was piloting the Doctor’s TARDIS.

‘River!’ Doctor number thirteen exclaimed. The surprise on her face suggested that she hasn’t seen her in decades. Perhaps it was true. The name did ring a bell.

The man was captured by Missy the most. ‘It’s you,’ was the first thing he said. Then he noticed the three Doctors. ‘And you three, blondie, granddad, and celery! Oh, it must be Christmas!’

He knew the Doctor from the future. He was from the future. Who? She hazarded a guess.

‘Oh, am I man again now?’ Missy asked him with a generous dose of disdain in her expression. Equinaran was right, then. He was the Master, and if there was the Master in the future, it meant there was a future at all. That was certainly promising.

Above all, it looked like her parents will have reconciled for good. If they haven’t, they would have been dead by then. She was sure of that. She knew them better than anyone in the universe did.

‘That seems to be the case,’ the future Master nodded. ‘But not until two regenerations later.’

She breathed in relief. ‘Thank Rassilon. I do prefer this shape.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he acknowledged.

‘Multiple versions of one’s parents in one place, a Time Lord’s worst nightmare…’ Kaston stepped in after a long pause, during which he managed to eat a sandwich. Me snickered. Clara was not amused. Equinaran delivered an identical unimpressed look. She slowly walked another round.

(Tell me about it.)

So did River. At him, and at the Doctor number five a second later. ‘Care to tell me something, husband?’

That word couldn’t escape Equinaran’s attention. She almost burnt River Song with her laser vision, and the woman noticed it. She was dangerous—and she wasn’t familiar with the relation between Equinaran and the Doctor.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, River Song. All of that is in my future, and so are you, apparently. Right now, we must focus on Gallifrey, like my daughter said.’

Ah. Two birds with one stone.

‘Your _daughter_?’ She could not believe her own eyes and ears. ‘Doctor—’

‘We cannot; not until all 13 planets are online, which they aren’t. Did they reply, Doctor?’ Valkyria spoke firmly. The Time Lady was pleased to change the topic and ignore River completely.

‘I’m afraid not,’ answered number thirteen. ‘River, I can explain everything, but not right now. I’m sorry.’

Equinaran’s pace quickened. She clasped her hands behind her back. ‘Keep trying. Do we have more TARDISes on the way?’

‘Negative, madam,’ the Chancellor shook his head.

‘Estimated time of collapse one hour and 29 minutes,’ announced the newly appointed Castellan. The head of security shot a concerned glance at the clock mercilessly counting down to zero in red circular numbers. He did not lie.

Equinaran turned her face to the high ceiling and closed her eyes. She exhaled deeply. ‘May the gods be with us in the final hour and bring salvation to the lost.’

The gods were a tale. There were no mythical almighty beings in this universe; the Time Lords were on their own at the end of time and space. She knew that, but right now, she would give anything for the tale to materialise and fulfil her noble wishes.

‘Madam President, we’ve got input!’ shouted the Doctor number five. Perhaps she was a little bit wrong about the absence of almighty beings. Or perhaps it was just a well-timed coincidence.

‘Yes, I have some readings on the hidden subchannel! They are transmitting the signal wrapped in a cocoon of code so their enemies wouldn’t intercept it. Oh, they are clever!’ number twelve added.

‘All planets are online. I repeat, all planets are online,’ Equinaran announced the good news loudly. Every Cardinal in the Citadel could hear it. A fresh wave of hope mixed with energy blossomed in her hearts and spread across her body in the rhythm of four.

‘But we still don’t have enough TARDISes.’ Missy was right. Gallifrey needed two more.

‘How big of a paradox could the universe handle?’ asked Doctor number thirteen. She raised an eyebrow. If the Doctor couldn’t be sure about that, no one could.

‘Right now, I’m not certain of anything. The universe is becoming very small. Why?’

‘I know where to find one, but there is one slight problem.’

Worry and scepticism stirred the cocktail of emotions in Equinaran’s hearts. ‘Define “slight”.’

She didn’t have to. The definition sneaked in front of the screen and waved at them embarrassedly. ‘Hello,’ she said. She wore a khaki dress instead of the black one, but it was the same person as the one in one of the windows. Missy.

The younger version of Missy waved back. She did that often.

Different regenerations of the same Time Lord were one thing, but the very same one twice in one place was spectacularly bad. It was the embodiment of bad. Her hiding in the Doctor’s TARDIS didn’t necessarily have to crush the universe, but if she went to her own ship, the same one Missy from present time had, and joined the crusade, the TARDISes would protest. In trying to balance the paradox, the universe would collapse in its foundations.

‘I may be the President of Gallifrey, but even my powers are limited. I can’t risk creating a hole in the universal nexus, and you both—all of you—know that. Two Mistresses are catastrophic enough.’

‘We don’t care if we have to wait, Doctor, but we can’t allow you to do that. We have put ourselves in unnecessary danger by allowing you to bring us here,’ said the Castellan. He was one of those who didn’t trust the Doctor before the war and its end or after it.

‘I told her so, but this one doesn’t listen,’ the other Missy tutted. She mouthed, “You’ve got something to look forward to.” It was for the younger Missy.

Though, did the Doctor ever listen?

River Song narrowed her eyes. She pointed a finger at the Doctor. ‘You can’t be the Doctor.’ She turned to number twelve. ‘That’s impossible. I know all of my husband’s faces. This one isn’t among them, and I think I’d notice if I had another wife.’

 _Someone silence that woman._ Clara and the other persons were decent enough to stay out of the family drama and refrain from unnecessary questions.

Twelve took charge of it. ‘As I said, I don’t have time to explain it to you, River, because you will forget this ever happened anyway. The paradox will wipe it out of your memory.’ He paused. ‘Yes, it’s me. I’ve got a new regeneration cycle. It was a courtesy of my daughter.’ His eyes travelled to Equinaran. She had talked the Council into helping him despite not hearing a name other than “the Doctor”. She had said she knew his real name, and that he would rather die than ever say it aloud again. It had become too dangerous. ‘The President of Gallifrey.’

River opened her mouth to respond, but the oldest Doctor cut her off. ‘Just don’t ask, please.’

Oddly enough, she listened to her.

The Doctor refocused on her daughter and Missy, who was still standing next to her. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to do this, Equinaran?’

‘Yes. We must, and will, find three other TARDISes. She can stay in yours, but you should be very careful. The universe is already on the verge of collapse.’

‘Well, I’ll just go in the garden or something. Don’t mind me,’ the Missy in question said and waltzed out of sight.

Suddenly, a screen appeared. It contained an elderly man in an elderly TARDIS. ‘High Council of Gallifrey, this is Professor Quai. I have received your message and instructions. I am ready to do whatever might be necessary to help with returning the planet to its former glory.’

‘We appreciate your help, sir,’ replied the Chancellor. Everyone else nodded in greetings, the Council as well as the pilots. A second after him, screen number 12 showed up. It was their old friend Romana. A version of her that came from times before the War. Before she became Lady President.

The Doctor thought they were never going to see her again. They were surprised once again.

Gallifrey needed one more Time Lord now. One Time Lord to save their home.

The Captain tapped his fingers against the console nervously. ‘Come on, one more TARDIS. Where are you?’

It was right behind the corner.

‘I’ve heard Gallifrey needs my help, Madam President,’ said the boy. He grinned enthusiastically. He was too young; it was merely a play for him. A TARDIS piloting exam he was unlikely to have prepared for.

‘We do indeed,’ she replied. ‘All 13 ships are in place. We are ready to proceed. Do what you must, and always be sure you know what you are actually doing. Remember that the fate of our planet is at stake.’ It was mostly her plan, but everything depended on the pilots. She could do little to nothing to influence the realisation.

‘Good luck, everyone,’ the Chancellor added, to which the head of security responded with a dry, ‘We are going to need it if we want to survive.’

The pilots ran round their consoles hectically and pressed and pulled and typed. ‘I’m locking onto the original coordinates,’ said the Doctor number five, ‘tying a rope around Gallifrey,’ number twelve continued, ‘and using the signal broadcast by the 13 planets as an anchor I can swim along.’ The last words were Kaston’s. He was the first to pull the dematerialisation lever.

Four police boxes and nine grey cylinders floating in Gallifrey’s orbit began to disembody. They were transmitting the subspace wave all the way to the President’s office and the Matrix. At the same time, they were connected to both the anchor planets and Gallifrey, creating a link between them that was strong enough to create small cracks in the fabric of the universe, and the small cracks were strong enough to create bigger ones just like falling dominos could make whole pictures. Then it was easy for the 13 ships to pull and carry the large planet through. It has been done before, only on a smaller scale.

The TARDISes were living souls; they could help with everything they had if they wanted to. If the pilot wasn’t experienced enough to execute the trick by themself. They adjusted the artificial gravity bubble, or they increased the efficiency of the stabilisers.

Gallifrey still had little over an hour to spare before the universe ended.

It rattled. Everything shook and creaked. It was like an earthquake more devastating than any other in the planet’s history. Equinaran had to hold onto the table to keep from falling. Some of her government failed to do so in time, so they were rolling around the floor without a speck of dignity left in them. The pilots and their TARDISes were doing the exact same. The connection between them and Gallifrey faltered from time to time.

The Doctor seemed to enjoy it overly. Each one of them. They were laughing, and so were Missy and Clara with her immortal girlfriend. They who did this sort of thing every other day. Equinaran mentally rolled her eyes at them. Her arms were starting to ache.

They travelled for eternity. The bumpy ride did not have an end. High-pitched screams echoed through the office as some gritted their teeth and desperately tried to sustain balance and personal integrity. It did not take long, and the holographic projector switched off. They still could see and talk to the pilots, but any attempt at that was futile anyway.

And then—calm and silence. Eternity just ended.

Something has happened with no doubt. They have moved across time and space. But were they where they belonged? Was the plan successful?

Equinaran let go of the table. Her chair has fallen on the ground, so she picked it up. Her arms needed stretching and loosening. It took a lot of effort to remain on her feet. The other Time Lords gathered themselves slowly, sighs and coughs keeping their company.

Clara squealed. ‘We survived!’ She was gasping for breath. She wasn’t the only one. ‘We’ve made it. We survived. And Gallifrey is back!’

Reminding her that neither she nor Me could technically die was useless.

Missy looked at her scanner’s screen. ‘Yes, it is. It actually worked.’

‘It almost sounds as if you had doubts, Mother,’ said Kaston. His voice was deeper than usual. The clean elegance of his shirt and tie was, somehow, intact.

‘Me? No, never. I knew it would work, of course.’ It wasn’t very convincing.

‘Well, I didn’t,’ the boy laughed. It must have been the first great adventure of his life. Clara laughed as well, and that triggered a wave of laughter spreading from TARDIS to TARDIS.

Equinaran resisted the contagiousness of it. She did nothing but chuckle. ‘Enough silliness; there still are matters to discuss if what you’re saying is true. Come to the Citadel and meet me in person.’

‘Yes, madam,’ or a variety of those words was what she heard from each ship. The windows disappeared, one after another, and left empty space in their place. Just air. They were never there.

The ships landed right inside the vast monument. The four blue boxes—three that belonged to the Doctor and one that River borrowed from him—stood out between the default metal cylinders. Missy from the future and the Doctor’s companions Nyssa and Tegan stayed on board; Lady President’s guards escorted the rest to her office. No one barely spoke a word on the way, only Missy and the future Master needed to chat, with an occasional interruption from Kaston or a shush from the current incarnation of the Doctor.

She greeted them with another smile. Her hands were buried in the red cloaks of a President. ‘I welcome you in the Presidential chambers. It is an honour; words cannot properly express my gratitude for saving us all. The entire population of Gallifrey owes you their lives.’

The Doctor number twelve stepped forward. In low, humble voice, he said, ‘I think we can all agree it was a result of cooperation between us and you, Equinaran. We couldn’t have done it without your help.’

‘You flatter me, Father, albeit you’re wrong. I hadn’t even told you my plan. You had figured it out yourself,’ she spared a glance at the rest of the present, ‘and you had come on your own accord. I had sat at my table and spoken empty words that were just the right incentive to act and work together. I was showing you what you can be, and what the universe can be if we unite. This is the beginning of a new era of peace in the galaxy. In all galaxies. _That_ was my plan.’

(If we work together, the impossible becomes an option. It is nothing but a choice.)

‘Madam President, you are playing a very dangerous game if you think you can put the existence of Gallifrey and the universe itself into jeopardy only to bring your parents back together and get away with it.’ Commander Mondred, one of Rassilon’s closest associates, stood up and banged his fist on the table. The look he gave her could blow up a star system. He was one of the three who had voted against designating her as Lady President. He was one of those who had protested against the Doctor’s plan to freeze Gallifrey in a pocket universe. ‘He will know about this!’

Mondred strode to the door. He murdered Equinaran with his look once more before he waved at the sensor next to the door aggressively for the dramatic effect. She called after him, ‘You can tell Rassilon anything you wish, Commander, but there will be wars no more. We will make sure of that. Yes, my visions might coincide with the intention to reconcile two people who were, as us, in an endless conflict, but that is merely the tip of the iceberg.’ She paused, also for dramatic effect. ‘It is not his universe anymore. It is everyone’s.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

Missy closed the TARDIS door behind her with a thud. She halted. ‘Our daughter grew up to be the most cunning and artful person in the entire universe.’ It was a statement.

The Doctor stopped fiddling with the console. She could only see his back, so she couldn’t read his expression. ‘She and you are very alike.’ Now he turned. He wore an illegible poker face.

‘Well, I suppose she’s taken after both of us,’ Missy replied and slowly approached him, hand sliding along the railing. The clopping of her heels grew louder with every step. ‘Either way, she was, probably,’ she swallowed, ‘right.’

It was difficult to admit. All these inflows of emotions and remorse she has not felt for aeons were hard to handle as it is. She could suppress the nagging impulses to just quit trying and turn to the dark side, but they were still there, crawling and begging and screaming. Her past could not be erased with correction tape like a typo.

It was difficult for him, too. He had two choices: let the memories of this day fade away when he leaves Gallifrey and forget about Clara, River, his future self, Romana, Kaston, all of them, or ask Equinaran to grant him the luxury of retaining them—though, that came with a price. Missy knew he wanted to forget but had to remember. That was the fate of the Doctor.

‘She was right about many things,’ he avoided talking about them. He struggled with maintaining the poker face but still did.

‘You know what I mean.’ She stopped two feet away from him. It was an invasion of personal space for both of them, but they have learnt to cross the necessary boundaries. The intense look she gave him finally broke him, and he unbent a little.

‘The speech was impressive.’ He burst with energy all of a sudden. ‘I think she’d made a good point, and I’m glad you see it, Missy.’

Was that a smile?

‘I’m sorry.’ He wasn’t there to apologise, but maybe she should make the first step once in a while. She crossed the two feet. Her hand went up to his neck and curls without thinking. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Proving her theory,’ she said, ‘or maybe disobeying my common sense, who can tell.’ She brought her lips to his, slowly and carefully. She was asking for his consent, unlike that one time in the 3W so long ago.

It was the first time since the Mondasian ship and the moment they thought death has finally come to collect their souls. Just like then, the Doctor let her. He opened his mouth in response and let her in. Her hand was still in his hair, playing with it, and the other joined it. The hair was so long and fluffy.

She pushed him against the console without breaking contact. The kiss was getting more intense, filled with unspoken promises, feels, desires. His hands wandered on her back and hips. Whirls of unrestrained thoughts and brain waves swirled round them as lips, tongues, teeth clashed.

Soon, the zipper on Missy’s dress was undone. She knew he loved the change in her style of clothing. No corsets to untie. Lacy bras were better.

‘Eager, are we, Doctor,’ she said in a husky voice. In return, she rid him of his coat. It ended up in a pile on the floor.

‘Shut up.’ Their lips reunited. It has been a couple of years. The Vault had been a lonely place; the universe wasn’t. The Doctor’s hands travelled to her bottom. He cupped her cheeks and pressed her close to him. Sometimes he hated hugging and touching and kissing, but today wasn’t the day. He _needed_ her. She needed him too.

He kissed her cheek and went down along the jawline. He peppers soft kisses on her neck. Missy threw her head back and closed her eyes, breathing in every touch and every thought he unintentionally let out. Her hair was a wild tempest on her shoulders.

He gripped each side of the unzipped dress and pulled it down. _Off with that thing_ , she caught a thought. She had to let go of him to get out of the long, snug sleeves. She shivered when air touched the exposed skin of her chest and shoulders. He turned them round and pinned her to the console. The tempest was released.

 _My, Doctor, you are wild,_ Missy pushed a thought into his head. She put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. The other hand worked on the buttons of his shirt. _It has been ages since we did it on the console._

_We’re not doing it on the console._

One of Missy’s legs sneaked between his and enveloped him from behind, gripping tight. Her thigh brushed against the hardening bulge in his trousers.

 _Underneath it, then?_ her telepathic voice purred. The buttons were almost undone. One fell on the floor and rolled beneath the console. He did not care; all he cared about was the physical and mental unity with a person who could understand what he has been through and make him forget. Feel pleasure and oblivion circulate his veins, become someone else for a while. Release it.

 _Missy. You. Me. Bedroom. Now_ , he urged. The trousers became way too tight. He was out of breath.

She undid the last button and wrapped both her arms round his neck just as she rolled up her skirt and jumped on him. She wrapped her legs round his waist. He held her and never let go. As quickly as he could walk, burdened by her weight and his cock, he moved to the corridors.

The TARDIS was a clever girl; she has placed his (their) bedroom just round the corner. But he still stopped and pinned Missy against the wall. He had to kiss the lustful grin off her face. He kissed her mouth and her neck and her chest. Hands tangled in her dark, long hair, and heels dug into his legs.

He took two steps backwards and undid her bra. She helped him take it off. It was liberating. His tongue was on her breast, and she let out a moan. This face might not look like it, but boy did he know how to make a girl wet and screaming with pleasure.

 _Open the fucking door_ , she said. The Doctor wasn’t glad to take his mouth off of her hard nipples. He gave her a kiss on the mouth before he turned round and crossed the two metres that separated them from the bedroom door. He waved his hand at the sensor. The two pieces of metal slid to the sides and revealed the king-sized bed with dark blue canopy and wine bedding. He stepped inside.

When his knees touched the bedstead, Missy let go of him. Eternity passed before her back hit the mattress. She toed off her boots—no complicated lacing either—and slipped out of the dress. She threw it on the floor haphazardly, which would bother the Doctor anytime but right now. She made her way to the back of the bed, where she put her head on the pillows and waited for the clumsy Doctor to take off his trousers.

He took off his pants too and released his length. He climbed on the bed and quickly joined her. He needed her touch. The kiss was hot and wet and lacking any hard feelings; just desire. He ran a hand along her belly and continued on her outer thigh. The gentle touch sent electricity down her spine and aroused her nerve fibres. Her black-painted nails sunk into the skin of his back. The firm, calloused hand ran along her inner thigh and then slipped under the string of her knickers. She panted.

He rid her of it roughly. It landed somewhere near the dress. His mouth sucked and licked on her breastbone. Large, white breasts. Belly. The tip of his tongue in her navel made her shiver. She called his name when he kissed her wet clit.

She buried her hands in his hair. That tongue could do wonders. She moaned again—it was a throaty sound filled with the thought of the Doctor’s mouth inside her. He caught it—of course he caught it. His lips were on her inner thigh, but his eyes looked up. They were like a storm. Like a panther, he crawled up her body and captured that mouth with a kiss, groaning into it. One of his hands were still on her thigh; upon his incentive, she spread her legs wider.

He didn’t break the kiss when he entered her. It was Missy an instant later. She needed to breathe. Her respiratory system wasn’t the only part of her body that was overloaded. Her mind screamed his old name with every thrust. He screamed hers too. She hasn’t heard it in so fucking long.

Her hand landed on his arse. She pushed. _Harder_ , she commanded. She needed him deep and her thoughts off. The bed was the world. Her nails, his skin, her breaths, his cock. The pace of his thrusts quickened. The electrifying feeling in her whole body intensified. She was on the edge.

With a quick flip, she rolled them over. She was now on top of him. Her hips set the rhythm, and her hands were pushing into his hearts. They beat furiously, and just for her. The dark hair floated in the air around her, waved with every move. They cried their names over and over again, Missy, Doctor, Koschei, Theta, the forgotten ones.

It didn’t take long for the Doctor to come. With a curse on his lips, he spilt inside her. She came just seconds later. Heavily panting, she rolled off him and landed on her back on his side of the bed. She was spent. They both had to catch their breath.

‘That was—wow.’ She was very eloquent. ‘Fuck, Doctor.’

His chest was heaving up and down. ‘I know.’ He looked at her and opened his mouth. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them. He hesitated. ‘Missy—are you alright? Are _we_ alright?’

Her blue eyes returned the gaze. The answer to that could be anything, but the only thing it was now was uncertain. Hard. Equivocal. Impossible. ‘I don’t know, Doctor.’

He asked a different one. ‘Do you want to take a shower?’

It was easier. ‘Yeah.’

It was a start.


End file.
